


Changeling

by DragonNutt



Category: Xiaolin Showdown (Cartoon)
Genre: An Explanation for the Dumpster Fire titled 'Xiaolin Chronicles', Gen, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 01:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16882935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonNutt/pseuds/DragonNutt
Summary: What could he say? Would Salvador be interested in hearing about how Kimiko was too busy cooing over her new baby dragon, Clay's animal obsessions had sailed past creepy, and Omi would probably rather make out with a mirror than hang out with him? Would Salvador care that Raimundo had spent the past few weeks trying to organize a movie night, or a game night, or something, and no one else had shown any interest? Would Salvador want to know that Raimundo spent hours writing letters to all eight of his siblings every night because even if he wouldn't hear the responses for weeks, it was the closest thing he had to friendly conversation?





	Changeling

If someone had asked Raimundo what exactly he was doing outside the front gate of Lapitraz, he wasn't sure he would have an answer. Years ago, he could have whipped up an easy lie with a casual shrug of his shoulders, and he didn't know why that task seemed so difficult now. There was a lot of stuff he didn't know anymore, but the fog in his brain and the cold, muddy weight in his core were things he didn't want to think about.

After passing through security, two guards flanked him while he trekked down four flights of stairs. Growls and rumbles echoed from the surrounding prison cells; only the occasional holler gave indication that anything human lived down here. The guards led him down a corridor to a final cell, and the man inside sat up from his stone bench at the sound of footsteps. With a smile and a glint in his eye, he said, “Ah, Raimundo! So nice of you to visit. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Presented with the question he already knew he couldn't answer, Raimundo froze on the other side of the metal bars. Thankfully, his expression remained neutral and dull, and his hands went into his pockets. “Just passing through.”

“Of course.” Putting his hands behind his head and leaning back against the stone wall, Salvador grinned like he was living in the lap of luxury. “But all alone? Rather suspicious. If I did not know you so well, I would think you were the escaped changeling.” He sent a wicked smirk toward the two guards.

“Changeling?” Raimundo echoed.

“Had a little breakout from the most secure prison in the world, didn't we, _hombres_?” Salvador chuckled when the guards shuffled uneasily, but then he casually stood from the bench and strolled toward the metal bars to give Raimundo his full attention. “But how rude of me to tease my hosts after you have come all this way. What brings you to my humble abode, my young friend?”

Raimundo's fingers pinched at the fabric of his pockets. What could he say? Would Salvador be interested in hearing about how Kimiko was too busy cooing over her new baby dragon, Clay's animal obsessions had sailed past creepy, and Omi would probably rather make out with a mirror than hang out with him? Would Salvador care that Raimundo had spent the past few weeks trying to organize a movie night, or a game night, or _something_ , and no one else had shown any interest? Would Salvador want to know that Raimundo spent hours writing letters to all eight of his siblings every night because even if he wouldn't hear the responses for weeks, it was the closest thing he had to friendly conversation?

Glancing aside to a wall, he mumbled, “What's a changeling?”

Salvador's smirk dropped. Raimundo felt some dulled sensation of embarrassment when the man's eyes narrowed in concern, but then Salvador accepted the change in subject and answered, “Shapeshifter. It takes your form and feeds off your friends and family. Lapitraz is home to all sorts of evildoers.”

“Like you?”

Salvador gave a mock gasp. “You wound me.”

Raimundo turned back to him. “No, I meant like... aren't you a shapeshifter? You turn into a komodo dragon.”

“I _could_ shapeshift with the help of my Jitusara Amulet, the necklace I passed to you so my hosts wouldn't confiscate it.” Salvador's mouth curled up, and he winked. “I trust you are keeping my talisman safe? I still have the harmonica you gave me.”

For a moment, Raimundo considered admitting to Salvador that the Jitusara Amulet had somehow fused with the monks' other talismans and morphed into the new Xiaolin temple, but the thought of making Salvador upset filled his stomach with a bizarre anxiety that he usually only felt around Omi. Repressing it, he muttered, “It's, uh, it's not going anywhere, that's for sure. Uh. Do changelings have talismans, too?”

He nearly flinched under Salvador's inquisitive gaze. He felt like the man could see right through him, but Salvador tilted his head and kept his tone pleasant. “No, a changeling doesn't need a talisman to change its form. It only needs a victim to impersonate. But why the sudden interest?”

“I dunno.” Raimundo's eyes turned to the floor, and he forced a shrug. “You said it escaped, right? Might run into it.”

“Perhaps, but it will not pose a threat to you. It has almost certainly picked its new form already.” He pointed behind Raimundo and gave a knowing nod. “Most likely one of the guards.”

Raimundo glanced back at the two guards who still waited on either side of the doorway up the hall. To their credit, they did not show any sign of fear at Salvador's words. One of them, however, wore an oddly blank expression. Pointing a thumb back at them, Raimundo asked, “So if the changeling were nearby, it's not going to hurt me?”

“Probably not. It is only a threat to its victims'... how you say... loved ones.”

“How can you tell if someone's a changeling?”

Salvador now also had his eyes on the blank-faced guard. Shaking his head in slow exasperation, he muttered, “Bad acting, usually.”

The blank-faced guard shuffled in place a bit before mumbling something to the other guard, who narrowed his eyes at him. In a sudden, clumsy rush of movement, the blank guard scurried out the doorway. The second guard yanked his radio off his hip and chased after him, leaving Raimundo and Salvador alone.

Looking embarrassed on the changeling's behalf, Salvador shook his head and beamed at Raimundo. “Well! Now that we have no one eavesdropping, is there anything you were wanting to tell me? Or maybe you were hoping for a companion to bring to the newest waterpark? I have heard excellent reviews about--”

“I'm not breaking you out, if that's what you're thinking.” Raimundo's words lacked heat. He couldn't bring himself to sound annoyed or angry, not when taking Salvador to a waterpark actually sounded more fun than anything else he'd done this month. It took a stupidly long time for him to turn back up the hall and admit to himself, “I should probably go help catch that thing.”

Salvador waved a dismissive hand and said, “They will not need your assistance, _amigo_. Most changelings are smarter and stronger than that one.” Watching Raimundo slowly pivot toward the door, shoulders slumped and feet dragging, he dropped the smile again. “Raimundo, you seem troubled. Why are you here?”

Raimundo let a slow breath in and out. “Got nothing else to do.”

“And what of your friends, the other Xiaolin Warriors? Are they well?” At Raimundo's half-hearted shrug, Salvador tilted his head and crossed his arms. "You know, _amigo_ , I have heard many tales of the Xiaolin Warriors. Even when you were children, my fellow evildoers told me of the four monks who fought as one, whose greatest assets were their loyalty to one another."

Raimundo tried not to wince. He said weakly, "Five. There are five of us. What's your point?"

"I sense that something in your group has changed. Until you find out what is causing you such misery, perhaps you should be careful who you trust." He nodded toward the corner where the changeling had stood.

Raimundo bristled, and his hands closed into fists. "I already learned that lesson from you."

If the words had stung, Salvador didn't show it. With a smile, he said, "It is a lesson worth remembering."

"Yeah, okay. See ya later, Sal." Raimundo couldn't bring himself to sound appropriately angry, nor was he really sure why he wanted to be. As he stuffed his hands into his pockets and stomped out toward the stairs, he tried not to think too hard about it, even while his mind drifted back into the past, back when the tales of the Xiaolin Warriors had still been true.

* * *

“ _Ooh, the Pyranees Mountains,” said Dojo. “Been a few centuries since I visited.” The four monks peered down from his back to view the snowy European mountaintops. Clay let out an impressed whistle, and Kimiko took a couple quick pictures on her phone._

_Omi lost interest the quickest, shifting back upright and excitedly bouncing in place. “Excellent! Not to worry, my friends: now that Master Fung has officially made me leader, the Wuzzy Bunny is as good as ours!”_

_Kimiko flipped her phone shut and rolled her eyes. “Still not really sure why Master Fung picked you over the rest of us.”_

_Omi, to his credit, did not skip a beat before responding, “Because, Kimiko, I have been at the temple the longest. I am the most familiar with everything Xiaolin. Not to mention that I am also the wisest, bravest, and most experienced warrior--”_

“ _Don't forget humble,” Raimundo said with a cheeky smile._

“ _Oh, of course!” Omi whipped his head around to send a smirk of his own to Raimundo, who couldn't tell if Omi had caught the sarcasm or not. “But to dampen your concerns, I promise not to outshine the rest of you... too much.”_

_Raimundo scooted forward, grabbed Omi in a headlock, and ground his knuckles against the bald head. “We'll try to keep up, almighty leader!” Omi yelped under the noogie and wriggled free, and the two monks launched into a ridiculously childish slapfight._

_By the time Dojo landed, all four warriors were laughing. Omi finished the battle by shoving Raimundo off the dragon, but Raimundo landed lightly on his fingers and backflipped to his feet. Kimiko slid off with more grace, shaking her head and muttering, “Boys...”_

* * *

Trudging back through the stone hallways of the Xiaolin temple, Raimundo kept his head ducked down and his hands in his pockets. He wasn't sure what he had been hoping to accomplish with his visit to Salvador; he certainly didn't feel any better. He passed the kitchen, where Kimiko seemed to be cooking some sort of baby food for Zippy Lou. Pinching his nose to fight the smell of burnt sludge, he peeked inside and said, “I'm back.”

“Cool.” Kimiko kept stirring her mixing bowl and didn't look up. “Did you go somewhere?”

“Yeah, I, uh, took a walk.” Raimundo leaned against the doorway and studied the substance in Kimiko's bowl, somehow both chunky and milky at once. He felt like a past incarnation of him could have invented a snarky comment on the spot, but the fog in his head kept him quiet until he meekly asked, “Want some help?”

Blue eyes icy, Kimiko said, “No. I got this.”

Too numb to flinch, Raimundo mumbled, “Cool.” His past self would have put up a fight, but not anymore. He left Kimiko to her task and carried on toward his room, wondering what Omi and Clay were doing. Scratch that, he didn't want to know what Clay was doing.

While pondering the pros and cons of climbing upstairs to the training arena on the roof, he heard tiny footsteps rushing at him from behind. He spun around, and Ping Pong skidded to a stop before he could crash into Raimundo's legs. The reverse in momentum sent the tiny monk falling back onto his butt. Gripping his glasses, he squeaked, “S-sorry, Raimundo! I almost did not see you!”

“Oh. Hey, dude.” Raimundo reached a hand down to help pull Ping Pong to his feet.

Once upright, Ping Pong beamed up at him. “Raimundo! Remember how you wanted all of us to hang around and play video games today? And I said no because I had chores to do?”

“Uh.” Raimundo shrugged. “Yeah?”

Bouncing in place a bit, Ping Pong clapped his hands together. “I finished them! Brother Omi wanted me to do his chores, too-- Omi has very important things to do, you see-- so I had to work extra extra hard and stay up really late last night, but all the chores are done! So now I am free to do the hanging around!”

“You... oh.” Raimundo's gaze drifted back down the hallway toward the kitchen. “Awesome. Uh. Sorry, dude, but I'm not sure anyone else wants to hang out...” He glanced back at the tiny monk, whose eyes were still alight with glee. “But, uh, maybe we could play chess or something?”

“You play chess?” Ping Pong gasped. “ _Merveilleux_ _!_ Brother Omi never told me you could play chess!"

Something small and angry lit up in Raimundo like a flame, something that made him smirk down at Ping Pong and say, "That's because Omi has never beaten me at chess. And you know how Omi is when he loses."

Ping Pong gasped again and clasped a tiny hand over his mouth. The flame flickered out, and Raimundo ducked his head. After a moment, though, Ping Pong murmured, "Yes, I am aware. I remember when I beat him in the talent show." He flashed Raimundo an oddly guilty smile through his fingers.

Raimundo snorted and pointed back toward the sleeping quarters. "Well, anyway, I got a set in my room. If you wanna play, I promise I'll go easy on you."

Ping Pong giggled and took off toward the bedrooms. " _Prepararse para una derrota más humillante_ !" Somehow smiling, Raimundo followed.

* * *

_"Alrighty, Dojo partner." Clay tipped his hat back and peered up toward the treetops. "Any idea where we're wranglin' this Wuzzy Bunny?"_

_Dojo clambered onto his hat and drummed his claws on the brim. "Hmm. Definitely somewhere on this mountainside. I remember because they were in the middle of building that big monastery way back when." He pointed his thumb up toward the Canigou mountaintop._

_ "My friends!" Omi announced, climbing onto a rock and dramatically placing his hand on his chest. "As your leader, my first command is for us to split separately to cover more dirt! I shall search the mountaintop. I order you three to search the base!" _

_The older monks stared at him. Clay raised an eyebrow into his hair, Kimiko put her hands on her hips, and Raimundo crossed his arms. Gaze shifting from monk to monk, Omi gripped at his own robes and bit his lip. "I, um, I order you three to search the base... please?"_

_"There you go, champ." Raimundo strolled over and patted Omi's head. "I knew you had manners in there somewhere."_

_Omi's mouth fell open in outrage. "I have the most excellent of manners! Master Fung said so."_

_Raimundo threw his head back in a laugh before he and the other two began their trek downhill. "Whatever you say, almighty one!"_

* * *

"Dude." Chin on his palm, Raimundo drummed his fingers on his cheek. "Really?"

Ping Pong startled, hand hovering hesitantly over one of his pawns. "What? I took your bishop...?"

"Yeah." Raimundo let one of his fingers drop directly on top of his own rook and then drew an invisible line straight across the board. "And you left your queen wide open."

Ping Pong squeaked and slapped his hands over his mouth. Eyes darting across the board like a startled rabbit, he finally put his palms together and said with a placating smile, "But Brother Raimundo, you did say you would go easy on me. Are you not a monk of your word?"

Raimundo pursed his lips. "Ooh, calling me your bro  _and_ challenging my honor. You fight dirty, cue ball." He pointed to the pile of his fallen pieces near Ping Pong's knee. "Tell you what. Undo your last move, give me my bishop back, and see if there's a better move you can make."

Ping Pong gasped. " _Merci_ !" After scooting his pawn away and putting Raimundo's bishop back on the board, he beamed up at his opponent. "Get it? Mercy? It was a pun!"

"You—" Raimundo's head dropped into his hands, but he couldn't stop the snort of laughter from escaping. "I hate you. I regret everything."

"But you like puns, correct? Your sister sends you puns in her letters; you read one to us."

Raimundo lifted his head back up. Ping Pong was leaning forward with a big smile; Raimundo couldn't remember the kid looking proud of himself before.

"Any laundry?" called a voice from the door. The two monks looked up, and Dojo scowled back at them, dragging an enormous laundry bag that seemed to be stuffed dominantly with Clay's underwear. With a dramatic sniff, the dragon said, "I'm glad you kids get to have fun while I slave away at the river, washing away all the sweat--"

"Dojo!" Ping Pong waved and gestured toward the board. "Come and join us! Have you played chess before?"

Dojo dropped the bag handle and put his hands on his vestigial hips. "Young monk, I have been around since before chess was invented! Of course I've played! Who do you think taught Omi?" Slithering to the two, he gave the board a quick glanceover and said, "Don't take his bishop. It'll leave your queen wide open."

Ping Pong rolled his eyes in exasperation, another expression Raimundo had never seen on him. "Yes, I understand that now. Raimundo has given me another chance for  _redención_ . What do you think I should do?"

Dojo leaned over the board. "Well, if you don't move your pawn, then he'll take it with his bishop, so then you can take his bishop with your queen-- Wait, no. Then you have the same problem with his rook..."

Raimundo's shoulders sagged while he waited. Dojo wasn't doing anything wrong. It wasn't like their chess match was private. Just because a small part of him had been looking forward to teaching his best moves to a willing student didn't mean that Ping Pong owed him any exclusive attention.

Clay appeared at the doorway, sandwich in hand. "What're y'all doin' in here?" As the cowboy stepped into the bedroom, Kimiko and Omi trailed in behind him, and even though having all his oldest friends in the same room together was all Raimundo had wanted for weeks, his body tensed in their presence. Omi moved to stand next to him, and Raimundo couldn't explain why he avoided eye contact.

"We are playing chess!" said Ping Pong. "Dojo and I are discussing my next move."

Kimiko kneeled to sit next to the smallest monk. "I haven't seen Raimundo play in years. Is he teaching you?"

"Sort of." Ping Pong scratched at his bald head and frowned at the board. "I do not remember where I first learned to play. One of the monks from the abbey must have taught me long ago." Moving slowly like he was avoiding the attention of a predator, he lifted his queen and dragged it out of danger.

Raimundo reached across the board for one of his knights, and Kimiko asked, "Abbey?"

"Saint-Martin-du-Canigou." Ping Pong looked up from the board. "It's a monastery in the Pyranees Mountains."

Raimundo's fingers froze on the knight.

"Pyranees?" said Kimiko. "That sounds familiar."

"It is near the border between France and Spain," said Ping Pong. "The monks there said that when they found me, I could not speak French, Spanish, or any language they recognized, so they taught me both!"

"Raimundo," said Omi, "I know a better move than the one you're making." Raimundo barely heard him. Omi clambered over his legs and grabbed the other bishop to move it himself. Raimundo's spine straightened as he stared at his newest teammate.

* * *

_"I mean, don't you think it's favoritism?" Kimiko stepped over a fallen log and peered under the decaying branches. "I get that Omi has more monk experience, but that doesn't make him leader material, you know?"_

_"You sound a mite jealous there, Kim," said Clay with a chuckle._

_"I'm more worried than anything." Kimiko brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "All that power is going to go to his head. And his head's big enough already."_

_Raimundo grinned at her. "You doubt the humility of our mighty Xiaolin overlord, the greatest and coolest and most powerful Dragon of Water ever?"_

_Kimiko huffed, but her lips curved upward anyway. "Don't forget humble."_

_"I wouldn't worry your lil head, partner," said Clay, lifting a boulder to check underneath. "I reckon Master Fung knows what he's doing."_

_"Still." Kimiko crossed her arms and shook her head at the ground. "That's a lot of power for one monk--" Her sentence ended abruptly, and her gaze snapped up. With wide eyes, she pointed behind Raimundo. "What the--?"_

_Raimundo spun around in time to see a dozen thin black tendrils dart into the shadows of the woods. Kimiko gasped. Raimundo stumbled back and fell against Clay, who hoisted him back up to his feet. The three stood rigid, all facing the thick underbrush. Just as Raimundo started to wonder if he had imagined it, they heard a single leaf crunch in the dark._

_"Show yourself!" he called out._

_"Wudai Mars Fire!" Kimiko yelled, holding her palm up high. A bright flame burst over her hand, lighting the woods around them. Under the golden fire, something black and slimy with enormous glassy eyes crouched inches from where Raimundo had been. In an instant, it fled._

_"What in tarnation was that?" Clay yelped. Dojo peeked out from under his hat, eyes round._

_Kimiko flung the fireball after the scuttling limbs retreating up the mountainside, and Raimundo whispered, "It's heading for the top--" Summoning his element, he took off into the air and soared over the treetops in the direction from where they came, back uphill, where Omi had gone to search alone._

_"Omi!" Raimundo spotted a small clearing and dove back down. Slamming his feet into the pine leaves, he cupped his hands around his mouth and called, "Omi, where are you? Omi! There's something out here!"_

_He gulped and tried to force his breathing to slow, but the woods were silent. Raimundo gritted his teeth and crept through the trees, listening for anything, trying to convince himselt that Omi was a Shoku Warrior who could handle himself. A weird, creepy animal nearby was no reason to panic..._

_"Raimundo?"_

_"Omi?" Raimundo whipped his head up at the sound of someone small creeping through the underbrush, and Omi stepped out from behind a tree with a golden Shen Gong Wu in hand. Other than a few twigs snagged in his robes, he looked completely unharmed._

_"I found the Wuzzy Bunny. It was--" Omi paused under a thin patch of light and blinked up at his teammate. "What happened? You look most distressed."_

_Raimundo grabbed the small monk and yanked him back behind his own legs. Omi yelped in indignation, but Raimundo crouched protectively in front of him and muttered, "Not sure. There's something out here. Might be nothing, but..."_

_Omi huffed. "I assure you, Raimundo, whatever enemy could be lurking in the wilderness is no match for my--"_

_"Shh." Raimundo pointed into the woods, and Omi went quiet. In the dark, leaves crunched and scattered under small, stumbling footsteps. Raimundo called, "Who's there?"_

_"Raimundo." Omi's voice lost its bravado. Pressing against the taller monk's leg, he tightened his grip on the fabric of Raimundo's pants and tugged. "Raimundo, we need to leave right this instant."_

_Raimundo shifted his weight to try and see around the trees. "It... that's weird. It sounds like a person. Like a little kid. Hello?"_

_"Raimundo!" Omi grabbed his arm and, in a surprising surge of strength, yanked his teammate completely around to face him. Eyes wide and nine dots flaring on his forehead, he snatched the taller monk by the shirt. "Raimundo, forget what I said before. My tiger instincts are telling me we are in grave danger. If you respect me as your leader or at least trust me as your friend, you will get us both out of here immediately!"_

_Startled by Omi's change in attitude, Raimundo still knew better than to argue. Omi's tiger instincts had proven themselves many times over the years; they were never wrong. Scooping the small monk into his arms, Raimundo took to the sky and didn't look back._

* * *

Raimundo took a long breath in through his nose. He didn't want to voice his suspicions out loud. He didn't want the dots to connect, to reveal a truth he would rather ignore, not when Ping Pong had always been friendly and kind to him. But he knew someone else who had been friendly and kind, someone who had played him like a fiddle before he landed in Lapitraz. He wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.

"Dojo," he said quietly, watching the two nearly identical monks squabbling over the chessboard, "what do you know about changelings?"

Ping Pong paused and looked up, and Omi took advantage of the distraction to grab a rook and slide it across the board. Dojo, on the other hand, shuddered and said, "Ooh, you don't want to mess with those guys. Evil little buggers."

"What's a changeling?" asked Kimiko, raising an eyebrow at Raimundo.

Dojo said, "Well, no one's really sure what they are. Monsters? Spirits? Aliens? But they shapeshift; they turn into your doppelganger and feed on your loved ones."

Omi reached to the other side of the board and grabbed a queen, barely paying attention to the conversation. Raimundo and Ping Pong continued to stare directly at each other, the latter looking increasingly uncomfortable. Raimundo muttered, "Feed? What does that mean? What does the changeling eat?"

"Love, usually." Dojo scratched at an ear. "Sometimes other emotions or memories. At least, that's what most scholars think." His little shoulders came up in a shrug. "The problem is that the most powerful changelings never get caught, so no one knows for sure what all they can do."

Raimundo's mouth pressed into a thin line, and his eyes narrowed. "So. If someone felt like all his energy and happiness were constantly drained out of him, and all his friends were shells of who they used to be, could that be because of a changeling?"

Ping Pong's mouth opened a little, and he covered it with his hand. Omi's focus finally left the chessboard, and he blinked up at the Dragon of Wind. Dojo drummed a claw on his chin and said, "Hmm. Maybe."

"That's weirdly specific, Rai," said Kimiko. "What's on your mind?"

"Does anyone else think it's weird," Raimundo said, eyes still on the two monks, "that Omi and Ping Pong look so much alike?"

Omi's eyes widened and flickered to Ping Pong, whose back straightened as he waved his tiny hands and babbled, "Me and Brother Omi? No, no! We look nothing alike! Brother Omi is far more handsome than I am!"

Omi, who normally basked in such obvious praise, turned uncharacteristically quiet. Kimiko scowled and asked, "Wait. What are you saying? You know that could just be coincidence, right?"

"You think it's a coincidence that Ping Pong just so happens to look exactly like Omi, and just so happens to be from a place we went before we met him, a place where Omi wandered off alone while something weird was running around in the woods?"

As the puzzle snapped together, Omi gasped dramatically. "Wait. I remember that day." Pointing at Ping Pong, he exclaimed, "I understand now: you were the creature following me!"

The crust from Clay's sandwich dropped to the floor. "Whoa now, partners, hang on. Am I understandin' this right? Y'all think Ping Pong is some sort o' shapeshifter?"

"What?" Ping Pong squeaked. "No! I am not a changeling! I--" He glanced down and put a finger to his chin. "A-at least, I do not think so. If I were a changeling, wouldn't I know?"

"This is stupid." Kimiko crossed her arms. "Ping Pong's human just like the rest of us. We were literally flying around  _in his head_ , Rai--"

"Yeah," said Raimundo, standing up to tower over the others, "where we saw all kinds of random facts that a kid his age wouldn't know! And why does he have an 'Omi button' in his head? Shouldn't he have a 'Ping Pong button'?" He bent down, put his hand on one knee, and pointed at Kimiko. "How come he can mimic all of our elements, but we've never seen him harness his own?"

Trembling, Ping Pong opened and shut his mouth, but he had no answer. Omi pulled his body into a crouch as if he didn't know whether to lunge at Ping Pong or away from him. "You are an imposter! Your appearance, your skills, your knowledge... None of it is your own! You have merely been copying us!"

"So what?" Kimiko stood to match Raimundo's height. "Even if anything you said made sense, why are you bringing it up? Ping Pong hasn't done anything to us. He's a Xiaolin Warrior. He's our friend! He's  _your_ friend!"

"Ehh..." Dojo murmured, causing everyone to turn to him. "If he's a person, then yeah, he's our little buddy. But if he's a changeling..." He shook his head. "Changelings feed on feelings; they don't have any of their own. They don't care about their victims. They can't love. Some are just really good at pretending they can."

"I am not p-pretending!" Ping Pong babbled, stumbling to his feet and knocking over Raimundo's king. "You are all my friends, I promise! Brother Omi--" He pivoted and reached out for the other small monk, who stepped back. "Sifu Omi, I have always admired you, I have always wanted to be just like you, but I swear I never wanted to-- to eat anyone, I--"

"Stay back!" Omi snapped, side-stepping to hide behind Raimundo. "I will not let you feed on me any further, you cat-copy!"

"Copycat," Raimundo said, trying to keep his voice strong. He had learned his lesson from Salvador. He was not about to get tricked again, no matter how small and frightened Ping Pong looked.

"Listen, partners," said Clay, "y'all are throwin' all kinds o' accusations at our lil buddy here. Is there any way to prove that Ping Pong is one of us and not a shapeshiftin' critter?"

Dojo climbed up Clay's pants and hopped onto his shoulder. "Uh, well, there's one way. But it's not a really good way." When the five monks all looked up for clarification, he gritted his teeth. "Changeling disguises fall apart when they're exposed to fire. But, you know, so do regular people. So."

Omi drew himself up to his full height and folded his hands behind him. "Nonetheless, it seems that the changeling has left us no choice. Kimiko, you must set Ping Pong on fire."

The strangled gasp that escaped Ping Pong was the most terrified sound Raimundo had ever heard. Kimiko stepped between the two bald monks and snarled, "I'm not doing that."

Losing his nerve under her glare, Omi ducked back behind Raimundo. "Kimiko, you must listen to logic! Raimundo has brought up excellent evidence of Ping Pong's betrayal, and he has offered no defense for himself!"

"The Lotus Locust Clan!" Ping Pong squeaked, gesturing wildly. "They know who I am! I lived with them for years! They're on Canigou Mountain!"

Omi countered, "And where were you before you joined the Lotus Locust Clan?"

Ping Pong somehow found the nerve to look annoyed and baffled. " _Je ne sais pas_ ! I do not remember being born! Do you?"

"This is ridiculous." Kimiko yanked Dojo from Clay's shoulder. "We're going to sort this out right now. Dojo, you're taking us to Canigou Mountain."

With her hand tight around his neck, Dojo's answer came in a wheeze, "Sounds like a plan."

Omi's sleeves hid his hands as he folded them over his chest. "Very well. I shall guard the changeling here to make sure he does not try to escape."

"Whatever. Come on, guys." Kimiko led the way out the bedroom, and Clay and Raimundo followed her. However, when they opened the front door to the temple and stepped outside into the dusk, Raimundo went still at the doorway. Kimiko glared at him. "Well? This was your big epiphany. Aren't you coming?"

Raimundo had never quite grasped tiger instincts the way Omi had, and it was hard to really feel any sense of intuition through all the fog filling his head, but a trickle of common sense finally caused him to speak up. "We shouldn't leave those two alone. Omi's no good at guarding things."

Kimiko's expression softened into something he couldn't quite read. "You're right. Okay. You stay here and keep Omi from doing something stupid. Clay and I will call you as soon as we figure things out." Raimundo nodded, and Dojo took off with the other two monks into the darkening horizon.

As soon as they disappeared into the night, Raimundo's shoulders sagged. Did he feel guilty for starting this fight, or was Ping Pong physically draining him of his resolve? If Ping Pong had truly been manipulating them from the start, how many of his own feelings could be trusted? How much of the real Raimundo was left?

Distant and faint behind him, he heard a high-pitched shriek. He spun around. "Omi? Ping Pong?" When he took off running down the halls, the sound of his own feet hitting the stone floor almost drowned out the crashing noises coming from the bedrooms. Another yelp echoed through the halls, and Raimundo skidded around a corner just in time for a blur of yellow and green to skitter across the ceiling over his head. "What the--?"

"Raimundo!" Omi called, rushing around the corner and nearly crashing into him. The torch in his hand lit his face, turning his expression even harsher. "He attacked me! I should have known he could not be trusted! He is heading for the exit on the roof. Do not worry; I will take him up!"

"D-down?"

"Every direction!" Omi barrelled past Raimundo and charged up the stairs, sparks already flying from the torch.

Raimundo's heart hammered in his chest. He wanted to throw up. A part of him had wanted Kimiko to prove him wrong. He would rather the whole team think he was a paranoid idiot than for Ping Pong to really be dangerous. Ping Pong, the lone friend who had just wanted to play chess an hour ago, the tiny monk who reminded him so much of Omi's best qualities, the ones Raimundo hadn't seen in years...

"Omi!" Swallowing his nausea, he turned around and ran back the way he came. Kicking open the front door, he flew into the air, spinning around and upward, hoping to cut Ping Pong off from the outside.

He was too late. By the time he reached the top of the temple, not only had Ping Pong escaped to the outdoors, but so had Omi. The forest was alight with gold and orange, flames born from the sparks of Omi's lit torch as he raced after the smaller monk. Raimundo swerved through the fire, ducking around the tree trunks and calling out, "Omi! Omi, be careful!"

"Raimundo, help!" a small voice called. Raimundo swung his legs down and landed in a clearing near the cliff's edge, but it wasn't Omi who came rushing out of the woods. Glasses cracked, Ping Pong stumbled to the taller monk's feet and grabbed at his ankles. "Raimundo, p-please, I do not want to be on fire!"

"Raimundo, do not let him escape!" Omi stepped out of the woods, torch held high like a sword.

Despite all his common sense and everything Salvador had ever taught him, Raimundo's heroic instincts had him crouching protectively over Ping Pong and holding up a hand to Omi. "Hold on, dude! Get rid of the torch; you're setting the whole forest on fire!"

Omi paused, but his expression didn't soften. Ping Pong tried clambering up Raimundo's leg, babbling, " _P-por favor,_ Raimundo, I do not understand what I did wrong or why you have all turned against me, but I promise that I am really really sorry!"

Omi took another step closer. "Dojo says changelings do not have feelings."

"Th-then I cannot possibly be a changeling!" Ping Pong grabbed at Raimundo's arm and sobbed into his sleeve. "You are truly my friends, and I love you!  _S'il te plaît crois moi_ !"

Raimundo couldn't stop shaking. Every urge to cast Ping Pong out was completely gone, but he had no idea if that was his own opinion or not. He looked up at Omi, who also seemed to be wavering. Pointing the torch out toward the surrounding, blazing forest, he said, "I will give you one more chance to prove your innocence, little gecko. We are surrounded by your element. If you are truly a Xiaolin Dragon, wield it now."

Ping Pong turned still against Raimundo's arm. Slowly releasing the sleeve, he peered across the clearing at Omi. Raimundo couldn't see his eyes through the flames reflecting off his cracked glasses. Dots flickered across his forehead, and the tiny monk took a sharp breath. Raimundo could have sworn that the wind shifted direction. Ping Pong lifted the glasses away from his eyes.

Omi lowered the torch and shook his head. "You will not even make an attempt? I am sorry, little gecko, but you leave us no choice. You must leave the Xiaolin temple forever. We can no longer trust you, but I am a noble Xiaolin Warrior. I shall show you mercy."

" _Merci._ .." Ping Pong let his glasses drop to the earth, and his mouth curled back in an open snarl. "That makes one of us." Raimundo went rigid, Omi took a half-stumble backwards, and Ping Pong threw out his arms and yelled, "Wind!"

Clean air broke through the smoke and flung Ping Pong forward, sending him crashing into Omi. The torch dropped, and the grass started to crackle and burn. Omi rolled and tried to kick Ping Pong toward the flames, but Ping Pong dug his heels into the ground and called out, "Earth!" The dirt shifted beneath them and threw caked clay into Omi's face.

Raimundo jumped into the fray. Grabbing Ping Pong by the back of his shirt, he threw the tiny monk aside and tried to help Omi to his feet. Ping Pong rolled through the burning grass. Omi shoved Raimundo out of his way, but Ping Pong merely whimpered when he stood and ignored his scalded skin. Eyes dark and furious, the smallest monk yelled, "Fire!"

A fireball burst from Ping Pong's hands, soared across the clearing, and hit Omi square in the chest. As the force of the hit flung Omi backward, Raimundo jumped between the two and yelled, "Shoku Astro Wind!" He swung his arm, and a gust of blistering hot smoke rose over their heads.

As the gust arched down, Ping Pong called, "Water!" A shield of icy water formed over his head, blocking the heated air as it slammed down upon him. Raimundo braced his legs for battle, and that's when he heard the dying scream. He spun around.

Within the burning forest, Omi rose to his feet, eyes glassy and white. The flames licked across his skin, melting it off. The sound of crunching bones broke through the crackling fire, and as Omi's body fell to pieces, something black and slimy rose out of him, far bigger than the last time Raimundo had seen it. A mess of slender limbs and tentacles rose up high, staring down at the two with enormous, vitreous orbs.

"O-Omi?" Raimundo's legs went weak, and his arms fell to his sides. "Omi. Omi, n-n--"

Long, thin digits that could have been fingers reached out, grabbed Raimundo's face, and lifted him into the air. His screams were muffled against the wet substance that wasn't quite skin. Something yanked at his muscles from the inside, tugging them upward, trying to tear them from his bones. He kicked blindly, even while his vision went white with pain.

Though no one spoke out loud, he heard a foreign voice in his skull, " _I won't give you the chance to squirm away like he did--"_ But just as the promise was uttered, it broke. The limb swayed and released Raimundo, who dropped to the ground. 

His head hit the dirt, and he lay helplessly, head pounding and vision swirling. One of his arms weakly reached up, but his hand was lost in his sleeve. His clothes were too loose on his skin. His shoes had fallen off his feet. He shivered and wrapped thin arms around a scrawny, barely pubescent chest. As his vision started to clear, he peered up at a young man, one with a wicked gleam in his green eyes.

Distantly, he heard a high-pitched voice yell, "Fire!"

A blast of orange slammed into the man, who shrieked as his disguise dissolved again. Raimundo's features melted away, and the black, slender-limbed creature swirled around just as a tiny bald monk lunged onto its face.

The two stumbled out of his line of vision. Raimundo tried to move limbs that now felt so foreign and yet distantly familiar. He heaved himself onto his knees and elbows. A sleeve slid up his arm, revealing a hand that was way too small. His whole body was too small.

The changeling hadn't taken his emotions; it had stripped years off his life.

"Omi...?" His voice came out cracked and nasally. He stood on shaky legs, and all around him, the forest burned. The changeling's head rose high, its large eyes focused on something behind him. He wobbled and turned. Right at the cliff's edge crouched Ping Pong, glasses gone and dots glowing brighter than the fire. 

The changeling crouched, and though it had no mouth to roar, its body emanated rage as it tore across the clearing at Ping Pong. Raimundo yelled, and Ping Pong cried out, "Repulse the Monkey!" The changeling pounced, and Ping Pong kicked it over his head, flinging it off the cliff.

Raimundo didn't hear it fall, not over the crackling and burning of the woods around, but he knew when it hit the rocks below. After a booming crash, light and sound blasted across the cliffside, throwing Raimundo flat onto his back. Something thicker than air flew into his mouth, stretching his limbs back out and banishing the fog in his brain. As the surrounding flames began to die, the night turned dark once more.

Clutching his chest, Raimundo sat up again, this time with the ease of a familiar body. "O-Omi?" He clambered to his feet and stumbled toward the unfamiliar person near the cliff, and it occurred to him that in all the years Omi had been leader, he had not aged a day...

The person panting on the ground was a young teenager. A mess of black hair hung on his head, never combed. Though he was scrawny from years of eating for a young child, his clothes had torn in his growth spurt. With an embarrassed squeak, he tried to wrap his arms around his body.

"Ping Pong?" Approaching slowly, Raimundo pulled off his own shirt and draped it over the other boy's shoulders. "You're...? Are you...?"

The young monk stared blankly into the dirt for several seconds. "I..." He looked up at Raimundo. Through the tangled strands of his hair, nine dots glowed on his forehead. "I could not remember who I was... I was in the woods, and I could not remember how I got there..."

"That thing..." Raimundo crouched near the boy, holding onto him like he could slip away at any second. "That thing got you, turned you younger and took all your memories away so it could mimic you. It-- Oh, no." He clasped a hand over his mouth. "I heard you stumbling around in the woods, but I thought you were something else. We left-- I left you there.  _Years_ ago. That Omi, he lived with us for  _years_ ..."

"I would get these horrible headaches," the boy murmured, feeling around his face. "The monks at the abbey gave me these big green glasses; they had mind-cleansing properties and were supposed to help, and-- and they did, but..." The boy sniffled. "I was so lost _._ I did not know who I was. I traveled everywhere, delivering mail, taking every name offered to me. Boris, Antonio, Rolf, Pierre... I called myself the 'Fourth.' I liked the number four; I did not know why."

"You're..."

"And then." The boy's eyes cleared. "I saw the poster: the one with the four of us. I saw the warriors there, and I  _knew_ them. I saw the Xiaolin Dragons, and I was  _home_ ." He reached out to touch the poster in his mind, expression distant. "And I did not know why, but I knew the boy in the middle was important, possibly the  _most_ important..."

Raimundo couldn't help it; a snort of laughter escaped him. The boy paused and blinked up at him in surprise. Raimundo said, "Omi.  _Omi_ . I can't believe this."

Omi let his hand drop. Looking hurt, he said, "I fail to see the humor in this situation, Raimundo."

"Omi." Raimundo put his own hands on each of the boy's cheeks. "You just spent the past year living as your own biggest fanboy. The changeling took every last one of your memories, but even it couldn't handle the power of  _your massive ego_ ."

Despite the haunted confusion still swirling in his eyes, Omi couldn't help but smile.

 


End file.
